A Fine Line
by a veritable iron rose
Summary: There's a fine line between love and hate, but they never intended to blur it. They're toxic and they're volatile - but perhaps that's what makes them perfect for each other. Jonathan Crane/Selina Kyle. Rated T for language and mentions of sex.
1. One: To Wake a Monster

_My addiction to Jon/Selina is consuming me, I swear. I've planned about ten chapters for this fic - and they'll follow the years that Jonathan and Selina inevitably fall in love/hate - or whatever happens to these two. It starts off quite tense, so be warned._

* * *

Sophomore Year - To Wake a Monster

She hates him with every single synapse in her body. As she storms through long empty alleys with tears burning in her eyes with the promise of nightmares and demons to come with sleep, Selina hates Jonathan Crane. The mantle of darkness that cloaks the city embraces her as she flees into the night, tears sparkling under the sparse light of Gotham's streetlamps. There's a rankling hatred born out of fear and rage burgeoning in her chest - a ball of ugly scars and memories that she'd rather not come to the surface again. She can yearn all she wants to steel her heart against any further altercations - but alas, Selina is only human.

So this ugly monster curled in her chest is only a human reaction, right? This demon called hate and broken pride that digs its little claws into her heart. Hate is a word that she will associate with cool blue eyes and overly scruffy hair from this night on. Hate is the way he used her as a fucking guinea pig for his newest experiment. Hate is the knowledge that although Jonathan's experimentation on her is a violation of every right she has, she can't report him for tearing into the fabric of her fears. This is _Gotham_.

A city made from the filthiest sins on this earth and the hatred that blossoms from the blackest of hearts. No one cares if you're hurting or if you're under attack. Screaming is practically the city's soundtrack. The sound of unadulterated terror. She's sure that Jonathan probably revels in it, maybe even gets off on it. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if he did - she wouldn't put anything below the twisted bastard. Her nose wrinkles with disgust. That's definitely an image she doesn't need in her mind as she walks along a desolate street, kicking shards of broken glass underfoot.

Selina wanders pavements with flickering lamplight in sketchy neighbourhoods until she can't keep her eyes open anymore. Her welcome home once she's through the battered door of her father's house is of iron fists and half lidded eyes beating upon her bruised body with no relent. She sleeps on a hard mattress smelling like alcohol and disappointment that night.

* * *

The next day that she sees him, they're in the school cafeteria, and all she spares him is the full brunt of her hatred from her eyes. She can feel hot glances raking down the exposed skin of her arms where angry gouges mar her flesh. And she can feel Jonathan's eyes coming to rest on those cuts that she ripped into herself in the throes of a toxin-induced terror. She is not proud to bear these marks - in her eyes they make her look weak, and weakness has always been something to be exploited and turned against you.

Her father was a monster of a man who beat her mother, beat her - taught her that if you weren't strong enough to live in the darkness, then you might as well not live at all. You molded yourself from the darkness, born from its depths. No one in Gotham was innocent. Not the bright eyed, bushy tailed girls on the streets with their innocuously preppy clothes. Not the men and women in the GCPD who claimed to uphold the law.

Gotham was hell on earth - a shadow of blight and an empty canvas for the lunatics and psychopaths to paint red with blood and chaos. The citizens were no different. Selina had been born into a city of blood and fear - and she had learned to adapt. The lesson beaten into her bones since her infancy was to ensure her survival by any means, at whatever consequence and cost. Blend in, adapt to the circumstances - and survival wouldn't be a problem ever again. Listen to the monster humming in your blood and hide your bruises and cuts until you are titanium. Show no weakness. Survive by the skin of your teeth. Selina has learned this lesson well. Her father certainly never lets her forget it.

The monster in her chest laughs at how she sees a semblance of apology in Jonathan's eyes when she passes him in the halls, so she bears her cuts with a twisted pride. Let him see her strength. She may be shaken in her mind, but she won't let him see her picking up the pieces of her psyche. He's seen enough of her weaknesses to use them against her. He doesn't need any more incentive.

It's another hour before she hears the whispers. Her searing eyes and aggressive body language have thrown off any quizzical glances and questions that have come her way. She's expecting rumours to arise, and she's not disappointed. She listens to them without lifting a finger against the outrageous talk that swirls like caustic smoke in the school. Let them talk. It only fuels her bitterness. She can wait. Minutes, hours, days. Until she gets the chance to mercilessly shoot him down with her spite.

* * *

She's sitting in the library that afternoon when an unnatural presence stirs in the library. The smell of nervousness itches against her nose, and the monster in her chest hisses a message of caution.

Jonathan's approach to her table is regarded with whispers and trepidation from all around. She examines his shifty eyes and twitching fingers with derision. _Show no weakness_. "Look," Jonathan doesn't look remorseful, despite the apology in his words. He pauses, forcing the sour words out. "I'm sorry." The silence around them is heavy. It is Selina who breaks the resulting pause in the air as her eyes crinkle with bitter laughter.

"I don't need your fucking sympathy." And that is all. The coldness as Jonathan leaves makes something ugly curl in the dip of Selina's chest. She takes a moment of ruthless pleasure in the act of casting him aside. She doesn't see the resulting ice that frosts over in Jonathan's eyes, nor the clenching of his hands.

He has shown mercy to her only to be rebuffed. Stubborn, spiteful, prideful woman. Jonathan scoffs as he leaves Selina's earshot. It will be a challenge to break this girl. The monster in his chest smiles. The seeds of hatred have been sown. Selina sees it when they cross paths the next day. He is disgusted by her at the same time his monster is drawn to hers. To touch each other is to bathe in acid, to breathe the same air is sandpaper. A welcome agony between two ugly, shattered people.

She hates him with every synapse in her body. And so he reciprocates.

* * *

_Not really sure about the ending. I would love a review or two of concrit before I upload the next chapter, if anyone would like to oblige me._

_Many thanks to my friend August who beta'd this for me._


	2. Two: As If

_Second chapter ^^ Okay, this chapter delves into a sex scene - so I'll be posting a separate one-shot (for now) named 'A Fine Frenzy' for all the just slightly too-graphic sex that I can't write here. It's not that graphic, trust me, because I'm incapable of smutting. But yes, this chapter is shorter because I had to cut that out._

_**Albedineity Inferno**: Oh my gosh, thank you so much. It means a lot.  
_

_**good morning doodlebugs**: I put spaces there because FFN tends to delete too long usernames. But thank you, bb. Thanks for betaing!_

_**Jasmine Scarthing**: Ahhh - thank you so much, as well as thank you for being the first to review.  
_

* * *

_Junior Year - As If_

She's sitting in the cafeteria with Harley and Ivy, ankles crossed under her chair, animated in conversation. The image of blithe teenage innocence - just three girlfriends enjoying their lunch. If you ignored the fact that Ivy was making arugula dance in her salad, or the faintest outline of a stiletto knife strapped to the outside of Selina's thigh. You know, just normal goings-on at Gotham High. Jonathan sits with Edward, Jervis and their assorted cronies at a table across the room from where the three femme fatales have claimed their spot near the center of the room. He prods at the lump of meat the school dares call food on his plate, his face an impassive glower among the laughing camaraderie around him.

It's been a year since the incident, and still Selina refuses to regard him with anything more than a barely contained hatred. His almost skeletal hand curls in a fist, eyes snapping like a crow's beady gaze at the girl sitting beside the glowing, effervescent blonde. Her hair's grown out of its boyish cut now, and curls at her collar - drawing attention to the long, smooth column of her neck as she throws her head back in a laugh… He wants that throat under the tight grasp of his hand; _squeezing, squeezing, squeezing_ the breath out of her.

Edward nudges his friend, and the moment is gone. He snaps his icy glare back to his long-time friend. Edward's lip is curled in a knowing smile that Jon wants to gas off of his face. Let him try smiling like that when he's screaming. Never mind. Jonathan is deftly inserted back into conversation with one last dark gaze at the infernal creature fluttering her pretty lashes across the room.

* * *

Selina chokes down another bite of macaroni on her plate, poking with a wrinkle of her nose at the gluey mess. Disgusting as always. It's better than nothing, she supposes. "He's looking again," Ivy snapped, gesturing with her chin at the left side of the bustling cafeteria. "Who? Harvey wonderin' when ya gonna suck him again?" Harley tittered crudely with a shark-like grin. _Girl talk. How fun_. Selina paid no attention to her two girlfriends' chatter. She worried more about how she was going to get paid that night, who'd she have to sleep with to get enough to pay for her next meal, when she'd get permission to visit Maggie again…

"_No_, but Jonny-boy's at it again." Ivy's strident voice, vibrant with distaste, brought Selina back. She cast her spindly tormentor a curious emerald look under a curtain of hair. A huff of disgust left her lips. "What problem does he have?" was her reply. Ivy curved red lips in a smirk, winking roguishly at her brunette friend. "Do you guys have a thing or something? There's certainly a hell of a lot of sexual tension every time you talk. There's practically lightning in the air." Harley giggles. "Ya sleepin' with the 'Crow? He's so boney… Don't think he'd be satisfying in bed…" Selina's eyes widened comically, and she tilted her head back to join her friends in sarcastic laughter. She felt a burning blue gaze rake down her exposed skin, but she didn't care.

"_God_ no." Selina snorted daintily. "I'd sooner sleep with an actual scarecrow-" The rest of her sentence was buried in raucous laughter and the screeching of chair legs on linoleum as the bell rang for class to begin again. Sleep with him? _As if_.

* * *

Hot, heavy breathing intermingled in the air of the bedroom as hands wandered with frantic need. All Selina could hear was the sandpaper rough exhales coming from Jonathan's mouth, feel the pads of his fingers scrabbling with the zip to her dress. His touch was searing acid on her skin as she breathed ecstasy into the nape of his neck. How had they ended up here, in a deserted bedroom of some preppy chick's mansion?

She remembered having spotted Jon's distinctive figure across the room at the party, rolling her eyes in distaste and downing another shot of straight vodka… But she didn't remember having wandered all the way into a bedroom with his fumbling fingers raking at her thighs, her fingers twisted firmly in his hair.

But oh, she didn't care. The little monster in her chest practically screamed for her to intertwine every inch of her skin with Jonathan's, have him all around her, in her - with her. Would it hurt just this once to comply? They were both teenagers searching for someone to scratch that itch in their lust-ridden bodies. Everyone at Gotham High hitched up together at some time or another. Selina wasn't sure purity even existed anymore. Certainly not for people like them.

Jon had given up on untangling the mess that was lacing and buttons and zippers on her dress, and had simply tore apart the side panel. Selina bit his lip hard in reprimand - she'd actually liked that dress. In the slash of moonlight that lit the room, Jonathan's eyes glowed with an almost ethereal silvery blue with nervousness and lust all at once. He could probably count the times he'd had sex on one hand. Selina definitely couldn't do the same - even with all her fingers and toes. She was a goddamn whore, after all.

They were entangled on the mattress now, a mess of limbs and hands going everywhere. Selina dragged herself up against the headboard, stripping herself of the remainder of her blue dress, throwing it onto the floor, eyes locking with Jonathan's in a heated clash.

She'd never seen a man's jaw drop like that. Jonathan's eyes had darkened to an almost black, widening, his gaze intensifying as he sat there at the foot of the bed. He said something in a raspy whisper she couldn't quite catch, and then he crawled up to her, fingers like claws on her calves and thighs.

_Oh_. Selina couldn't begrudge the fact that Jonathan was better in bed than she'd expected. They tumbled headlong off a cliff of mad pleasure and _i-hate-you_'s, promising in between sharp bites and sucks on necks that this changed **_nothing_**. It was a war zone of an aftermath as they lay there in someone's room, a mess of tangled sheets and limbs. The rhythm of a pounding headboard and squeals that belonged to Harley and Jack from the next room over was enough to send both Jon and Selina scrambling out of bed and back into their own clothes. Jon raked a hand through his hair, turning away in a belated sense of politeness as he tugged his pants back on. When he turned back around, he was alone with the bed and the strewn apart sheets; the window open and the curtains blowing in the breeze.

She wore a scarf the next day to hide the bruises. He wore a dress shirt to hide the scratches. Neither spoke of the incident.

* * *

_Reviews would be much appreciated - and if you want the slightly more detailed (not full out smut) version of this that I will admit I'm actually proud of - you can find it as 'A Fine Frenzy' in my profile. Thanks for sticking with this!_


End file.
